


Men Who Dress Like They Do in California

by egocentrifuge



Category: Mythical Entertainment, Rhett & Link
Genre: Discussions of Underage Sex, M/M, Multi, Roleplay, but believe me they do the sex, implied ot4 - Freeform, rhett is a pervert okay, there's some like... retrospective internalized homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 10:31:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21336790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egocentrifuge/pseuds/egocentrifuge
Summary: It really shouldn’t have come as a shock that Link would, as always, offer Rhett something that would have his brain on fire with questions and possibilities. They’ve built their career around setting each other off, finding exactly what they need to propel one another towards the next big thing.Link’s found a button, and somewhere in the house he’s leaning on it and waiting for Rhett to catch up.Okay,Rhett thinks, centering himself.Link’s eighteen, skipping out on gym class - no, forgot his clothes for soccer practice after school, that’s more likely. Hanging around outside waiting for me - waiting for eighteen-year-old Rhett to finish basketball practice.Did that mean that this SoCal version of Rhett was trying to pick a teenager up on freaking school property?It’s messed up, but Rhett’s stomach twists hotly with interest. He laughs softly - at himself, at the situation, at the fact that they’re actuallydoingthis - before heading off to find Link once more.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 11
Kudos: 65





	Men Who Dress Like They Do in California

**Author's Note:**

> warning for rhett getting his rocks off thinking about link as a teenager. that's it, honestly, that's the fic.
> 
> for my girlfriend for our three year anniversary, as this was one of the first ideas we ever came up with <3 here's to many more, babe

After their respective 40th birthdays, it’s seemed excessive to keep celebrating. It’s not that they don’t want to acknowledge their age - where their 30’s were full of creeping dread for the big four-o, actually _being _in their 40’s was… fine. No, it was _good._ A new chapter of their lives was opening up before them like they were going into college again, and hell. This time they had money.

It’s just, parties aren’t the sort of thing they’re after, at this point. At least, Rhett would much rather have a quiet evening with no obligations than worry about whether everyone’s having a good time, weighing his expectations of an event against the reality. He thought Link felt the same way, but Jessie had informed him half an hour ago that Link was planning something _special _for tonight and Rhett’s been vacillating between amused and anxious since then.

_I’m not going to be happy if there’s a surprise party in store,_ Rhett texts Link finally. His attempts to keep his phone hidden under the table are foiled when, a moment later, Jessie’s phone rings.

She shoots Rhett a smirk as she answers with a cheerful, “Link, honey, what’s - ” Rhett watches his wife purse her lips as Link’s voice speaks too-quickly into her ear, but she seems to be fighting off a smile rather that upset at the interruption.

“I didn’t,” she tells Link. “I - yes, _Link._ I just told him you were planning something for tonight. Of course I didn’t - baby. Stop.”

Rhett sighs and puts his phone face-down on the table when Jessie gestures as sternly as she can while trying not to laugh. 

“I know. I will. Uh-huh. Goodbye, Link.”

“I just wanted to make sure he hadn’t planned a party,” Rhett defends once she’s off the phone.

“You could have asked me,” Jessie says, pouting, but it’s put on. 

Turning forty brought therapy with it, brought finally talking about the things left unsaid, brought… a different dynamic to the four of them. Rhett’s honestly still distracted by the memory of Jessie confessing that she _liked _when Link called her in a tizzy, loved being the one that he went to when he needed a firm hand.

It - evoked certain images, is all. They’re still feeling out the edges of what they have with each other, but that just means there’s still so much to look forward to.

“You know you’re better'n him at keeping secrets,” Rhett points out, rubbing his thumb over Jessie’s hand. She flips it over to lace their fingers together and offers him a smile that, paired with where Rhett’s thoughts have strayed, honestly threatens to make him blush.

“Is Christy coming over?” he asks to deflect, distract; Jessie taking her lower lip into her mouth lets him know he’s succeeded. It takes a moment for Jessie to rally, expression prim even if she can’t meet his eyes.

“You’ll have his house to yourselves,” she says. “Don’t ask me more'n that, you bully.”

“Oh, I’m the bully?” Rhett starts, but the server arriving with their check has him breaking off to smile and nod. Jessie takes the opportunity to slide the hipster mini-clipboard towards Rhett’s side of the table and once they’re alone again Rhett leans forward and lowers his voice in mock-anger.

“You’re making me pay for dinner?” he teases. “On my own birthday - ”

Rhett breaks off with a contented hum when Jessie repays him with a warm kiss. 

“Consider it your only hint about tonight,” she murmurs against his lips. 

Rhett’s still trying to figure out what that could mean when Jessie wishes him one last happy birthday and takes the Uber home. Driving doesn’t help distract Rhett at all - no matter where they’ve lived, Rhett’s always been able to navigate to Link’s house in his sleep. He can’t remember getting there by the time he’s pulling up the Neal driveway. Before Rhett can think about the fact that both of the cars are gone, his phone’s buzzing with a text.

Link. _The door’s open._

Rhett raises his eyebrows, mind racing. Link’s not one to leave his front door unlocked, not since they moved out of the good ol’ South. Lingering worries of a party-goers popping out from behind sofas are replaced with images of Link wearing something he’d rather not come to the door in.

Rhett keeps a loose grip on his phone as he makes his way into the dim house, half in case Link texts again, half just for something to do with his hands. They haven’t - well, they _have_, obviously, but with the schedules they keep and the fact that they don’t live together, the time they’ve had to focus on these new extracurricular activities has been limited. Rhett’s palms are sweating just considering what Link might have in store for him.

When his phone goes off again Rhett almost drops it. 

Link. _Did you lock it?_

“Of course I locked the freaking door,” Rhett calls out, still making his way deeper into the Neal home. There’s a muffled laugh from the kitchen in response; Rhett changes directions and quickens his pace.

Rhett’s imagination had provided images of Link in leather, fishnets, lingerie. He’s not expecting to round the corner and see that Link’s - in shorts and a t-shirt.

“Is that the birthday boy?” Link drawls without turning around, giving Rhett a good view of just how _short _those shorts are. Something pings in Rhett’s memory, but he’s too preoccupied with staring at Link’s legs and trying to figure out if he’s disappointed or delighted to pay it any mind.

“You’re late, bo,” Link adds, looking over his shoulder. He’s not wearing his glasses, and - 

“Oh gosh, Link,” Rhett starts, struggling not to laugh. Link’s gray streak is gone, and though he seems freshly shaven, there’s a non-negligible amount of growth in a familiar pattern around his mouth. As Link turns around fully, grinning lopsidedly, Rhett realizes why what he’s wearing is familiar: It’s their old gym uniform, right down to the tube socks and Harnett Central High shirt.

“You didn’t,” Rhett manages. Link leans back against the counter and waggles his - yeah, artificially darkened eyebrows, and that’s it, Rhett’s giggling with one hand pressed to his chest.

“It’s crazy how much you look like you did when you were eighteen,” Rhett laughs. 

“Is that so?” Link asks; now that Rhett has the full picture he can recognize that Link’s talking like he hasn’t in years. The words are softer, more sibilant - _camp,_ though that’s not a word they knew at the time.

Rhett’s laughter trails off as a deeper, more urgent feeling wells up in him.

What would he do now, if he had an eighteen year old Link at his mercy?

As the question washes over Rhett, Link rests his elbows behind him on the counter, one dirty sneaker clad foot kicking back to press flat against the cabinet behind him.

“Hey,” Link says, expression changing. Where before he’d been fond and mischievous, a bit flustered, his face has gone much more - guarded, curious.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” he asks in that high lilting voice. Rhett swallows.

“Ah, no,” he manages to laugh, running a hand through his curls almost self-consciously in the face of a skeptical “teenage” Link. “Is it that obvious?”

“Just haven’t seen you,” Link says, shrugging, but his eyes tell a different story. They flit up Rhett’s legs, take in the way his jeans are tighter than anything Link would’ve seen on a man and rolled up at the ankle to boot. Rhett had pulled on a light jacket on the way over, and when he glances down at where Link’s gaze is lingering, Rhett realizes it’s his pink bomber.

Rhett remembers growing up in Buies Creek, what people thought about men who dressed like they do in California. It takes his breath away to realize that Link’s - reacting like he would’ve done, all those years ago.

They’ve talked about what it was like for Link growing up, since their 40th birthdays and therapy and everything that’s happened between them as a result. How hard Link had tried not to give people any ammunition to think he was queer, how much evidence there’d been anyways. That he wouldn’t realize until later that he was drawn to that particular host of forbidden fruits like a fly to a bug zapper: knowing it’d be his downfall but needing to anyways.

How vulnerable was Link making himself, offering up that kind of roleplay for Rhett? They’d never, growing up - Rhett knew his parents always thought of Link as a bit girly, but they never would’ve accused him of, what, meeting up with strange men? _Did _Link ever do this? How would he’ve hid it from Rhett, if he did - 

“You okay?” Link asks, dropping his foot with a squeak to the kitchen tile and starting to come forward. It’s not the voice he’d been using, the one he grew up with; Rhett realizes he’s just been standing there and lets out a self-deprecating laugh.

“Sorry, yeah." 

Link wraps his hands around Rhett’s forearms, not quite holding hands, but close. 

"My short shorts really do that much for you?” he drawls, but his expression is gentle, and the smile he gives Rhett is searching.

“Actually, yeah,” Rhett admits. “To a degree I… did not anticipate.”

“Well,” Link says lightly. “You’re a pervert, so. Figured you’d like the entire barely legal thing.”

“I like _you,”_ Rhett says, and immediately wants to run and hide from the honesty, especially because - well, he _does _like the barely legal thing a shameful amount. It’s just - so much more meaningful because it’s a barely legal _Link,_ and Link has always been Rhett’s obsession.

“You can have me, baby,” Link murmurs, lips twitching, somehow looking so devastatingly attractive even with his hair parted in the center. He touches Rhett’s cheek, leans up to kiss him.

“Ah, thanks,” Rhett manages after a few seconds of fortifying deep breaths. He kisses Link again, this time on the cheek, and holds him for a few seconds before finding his voice.

“Could you - ”

Link’s high-pitched giggle interrupts him. 

“I knew it, man, I _knew _you’d freaking love it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rhett complains, but he’s smiling. “You did a great freaking job, Neal. Go - be young and inexperienced somewhere, and I’ll catch up to you.”

He smacks Link on the ass as he leaves, mainly because Link shakes it a few times mockingly as he goes to make himself comfortable.

Rhett takes his time in the kitchen trying to order his thoughts, compartmentalize. It really shouldn’t have come as a shock that Link would, as always, offer Rhett something that would have his brain on fire with questions and possibilities. They’ve built their career around setting each other off, finding exactly what they need to propel one another towards the next big thing. 

Link’s found a button, and somewhere in the house he’s leaning on it and waiting for Rhett to catch up.

_Okay,_ Rhett thinks, centering himself _Link’s eighteen, skipping out on gym class - no, forgot his clothes for soccer practice after school, that’s more likely. Hanging around outside waiting for me - waiting for eighteen-year-old Rhett to finish basketball practice._ Did that mean that this SoCal version of Rhett was trying to pick a teenager up on freaking school property? 

It’s messed up, but Rhett’s stomach twists hotly with interest. He laughs softly - at himself, at the situation, at the fact that they’re actually _doing _this - before heading off to find Link once more.

–

Link’s bored. 

He can feel it stalking between his shoulder blades, back and forth and back again, each pass pulling the muscles there more and more taut. It’s dangerous, feeling like this, and every day that passes makes it harder to find something to ease the tension. Everything there is to do in this podunk town Link’s already done.

Out. He needs _out._

The boredom sinks its teeth into Link’s neck and has him setting out across the now-abandoned track and soccer and football field, running his hands along the fence looking for some chink in the defenses. He has to believe there’s something he overlooked the thousand and one times he did this before. 

“You inspecting the perimeter?”

Link jumps, but when he looks over his shoulder, it’s just the guy from before. The tensed, coiled thing inside of him swivels, but Link muscles his head back around before he can do something dangerous.

“Looking for a way out,” he mutters. The man laughs.

“Would probably have better luck on the road.”

Link half-turns, annoyed. That’s easy enough for this guy to say, some out of towner, but it’s not like he’s exactly following his own advice, is it? He’s back in Buies Creek, what, following Link around?

An accusation burns on Link’s lips as he takes the man’s appearance in again, the way he’s - he’s _looking _at Link, like some men look at girls. The word burns Link’s throat, his tongue, drips poison down his belly and makes the lurking boredom hiss in excitement. 

“What’s your name?” the man asks, before Link can work his mouth around the slur. 

What comes out instead is his name, which, hell - some days Link wonders if it doesn’t mean the same damn thing.

“What’s yours?” Link asks before the boredom gets a chance to speak for him. The man’s eyes flicker for a moment.

“Rhett.”

(In his backyard in SoCal, Link raises his eyebrows at his business partner, who shrugs in response.

“I want to hear you say it,” he admits; Link fiddles with the too-short hem of his shorts and tries not to smile.)

“Rhett,” Link repeats, watching the man’s face closely. There’s something about the way his eyes are half-closed that makes Link’s neck burn. He forges on, ignoring the look as best he can.

“Do you work at the university or something?”

“No,” Rhett says with a shrug. “I grew up here, just visiting.”

_“You_ went to Harnett Central?” Link asks, unable to keep the disbelief out of his voice. He steals another glance at the way Rhett’s dressed, mind spinning.

Rhett laughs again. It’s a nice sound, Link realizes, then blushes at the thought. 

_Out,_ the pacing monster inside of him urges. Rhett smiles at Link and the creature rakes its claws against the prison of Link’s ribs.

“Where are you staying?” he asks, breathless, aiming for casual and landing - somewhere else.

Rhett cocks his head at Link, body language shifting.

“I could show you,” he offers, and this is it, this is the moment Link’s been waiting for since before he knew to be afraid.

Link nods. Rhett tilts his head back towards the road, and when Link passes him, Rhett’s hand lands feather-light between Link’s shoulder blades and the thing inside Link surges up to greet him.

–

A not insignificant part of Rhett is looking in at this entire role play skeptically, questioning how ridiculous the entire forfeit is, but, well - Link’s a good actor, always has been. Rhett can tell how skittish Link is as Rhett guides him through the Neal house and up to bed, and it’s all too easy to imagine eighteen year old Link getting himself into a situation he’s not ready to be in.

Something twists in Rhett’s chest, leaves him aching; as Link turns takes in the bedroom serving as a motel room in their imaginations Rhett moves his hand to squeeze Link’s shoulder.

“Here we are,” Rhett says, then steps back so he’s not between Link and the door. “It’s not much, so I understand if you have other places you’d rather be…”

Maybe it’s strange, to offer the fantasy Link an out, but when Link turns bright eyes towards him Rhett feels - better, thinking the Link of his past is the one making the final decision.

“Don’t go getting soft on me now,” Link says, mouth trembling as he tries for a smirk. He backs up towards the bed, flopping down on the edge and toeing his shoes off. Sitting makes his shorts ride up even higher on the thighs that barely fit into what Rhett’s certain is actually Link’s original gym uniform; Rhett’s mouth goes dry as Link rubs at the newly revealed skin nervously.

“Is being soft such a bad thing?” Rhett asks, drawn magnetically forward until he’s looking down at Link’s ridiculous hair and too-blue eyes.

Link’s goozle bobs as he swallows, wets his lips, finally manages to speak.

“It is for - for what I have in mind,” he says, probably aiming for sultry and landing somewhere nearer to terrified.

It’s too much for Rhett to bear, and he sinks to his knees in front of Link without a thought for the long-term ramifications of the position.

“Relax,” he soothes, even as Link jumps at Rhett’s hands landing on his thighs. “If you don’t want to do this - ”

“I do,” Link blurts, strangled. “I - good gosh, I do, it’s just - ” He sucks in a breath; Rhett can see Link’s pulse jumping in his throat. Rhett wants to taste it, wants to fit his mouth over the artery and suck, but he makes himself smile as gently as possible for the moment.

“Like I said, I grew up here, too,” Rhett tells Link, tells the teenager he’s playing. “It's… not easy, being a small town queer.”

Link flinches at the word, eyes closing for a moment. Before Rhett can worry that he’s gone too far, Link’s burying his hands in Rhett’s shirt and yanking him forward. Rhett can feel Link’s shallow breaths on his face, hear his throat working around whatever it is he’s trying to say.

“Kiss me already,” Link finally croaks.

Rhett obliges him. 

It should be strange to say that they’ve shared multiple first kisses, but after this many years together Rhett’s much more open in his definitions of things. What was Amber, if not a first kiss Rhett and Link weren’t ready to give to each other? It’d taken decades after that for the _kiss me through the glass_ moment, but that too was a first, as was the time on stage during the Tour of Mythicality Rhett’s hands had slipped while giving Link fake mouth to mouth and their lips had touched. After that had come the first deliberate kiss, and though there’ve been dozens since then each time somehow feels like the first.

This is no exception.

Link’s mouth is tight under Rhett’s for a long moment before Rhett chafes his palms over Link’s thighs and shocks a gasp out of him. The death grip Link has on Rhett’s shirt eases as his mouth opens, and Rhett takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pressing in closer. He can feel Link trembling as his hands try and find a new place to settle, trying first Rhett’s shoulders, then his back, then finally coming to rest at his waist. Rhett wants to smile at the uncertainty there, but he’s too distracted by the wicked heat making its way down his spine.

This is Link, untouched and unsure, Rhett’s for the taking. 

Suddenly Rhett’s aching knees don’t present any obstacle as he stands, bears Link down until he’s spread against the sheets. His eyes are wide when Rhett checks his face, cheeks a brilliant rosy hue, and something terrible and wonderful burns beneath Rhett’s ribs.

“Holy shit,” Link breathes. Rhett stares at his lips - red, wet - and has to tamp down a growl.

“You can still back out,” he says, not without effort, and not levelly at all. Link’s eyes flutter before he’s pulling Rhett down to lay on top of him clumsily, desperately. Rhett gets a perverse thrill when he realizes Link’s already hard against Rhett’s stomach, but he’s to distracted fucking Link’s mouth with his tongue to look down and enjoy the sight of him straining against those ridiculous shorts. Link’s moaning with every breath, now, squirming like a live wire beneath Rhett, bucking and gasping like he really has no idea what to do with this position or situation.

Rhett drinks it in, every frantic touch of Link’s hands in his hair, on his neck. When Link seems to remember how clothes work and starts tugging at Rhett’s jacket insistently, Rhett sits back on his haunches to strip it off and gets to enjoy the vision Rhett’s mind tells hims is truly a teenaged Link being ravaged for the first time. The head of his cock is trapped between his waistband and his belly where the too-small gym shirt has ridden up; it’s Rhett’s turn to groan as he maneuvers until he can mouth greedily at the flushed skin.

“Holy _shit,”_ Link says again, more shrilly than before, and then he’s laughing half-hysterically as Rhett drags the shorts just far enough down that he can get Link’s cock in his mouth. Link’s laughter changes to garbled curses in the span of two heartbeats, and then there’s hands tugging too-hard at Rhett’s hair in desperation.

“Don’t, don’t,” Link gasps, shaking all over. “I - I’ll - ” His face has deepened to a dark crimson, blotchy on his cheeks and neck, and his eyebrows are twisted up in desperate embarrassment. 

Rhett’s incredibly tempted to see if Link means it, if he really is that close to creaming himself, but there’s something else he wants.

“Flip over,” he tells Link, distantly away that his voice is rough, ragged. Link’s cock slaps against his belly as Rhett lets it go and Link honest to god _whimpers_ when Rhett takes matters into his own hand and rolls Link onto his stomach.

“You ever finger yourself, boy?” Rhett asks, his own accent surprising him, as does the word that seems to shudder through Link.

“Uh,” Link squeaks. He shifts until he can bury his face in his arms, shivering. “Yes - yessir.”

Rhett has to stop and rest his cheek against Link’s spine as the admission and honorific take his breath away. He doesn’t know if Link’s telling the truth or embellishing the eighteen year old twink he’s playing.

“Tell me,” he orders. Link whines when Rhett steps away, but he’s back a moment later with the lube from Link’s bedside drawer.

“I, I - ” Link stammers, voice muffled. With the hand not sticky and cold, Rhett reaches down to tug Link’s hair just enough to get him to turn his head so Rhett can see him.

“Tell me,” Rhett says again, more gently. Link sucks in a ragged breath.

“Uhm, tenth grade,” he admits. “We learned about - oh gosh, oh gosh - uhm, anatomy, and the - the prostate, and - ” Link breaks off to make a high-pitched sound somewhere between dismay and pleading when the shorts around his thighs keep him from opening his legs any wider in response to Rhett brushing one slick finger against his hole.

“You tried it on yourself?” Rhett prompts, picturing it despite all the reasons he shouldn’t. He’s always been unable to separate his memories of Link when they were younger from how he feels about Link now, and the image of Link as he used to be flashes in Rhett’s mind.

“Shit,” Rhett growls, pressing his finger inside Link just to draw another keen out of him. “Did you get off?”

“No,” Link gasps. “Not - not that time, I - ” He breaks off to moan as Rhett rubs over his prostate deliberately, starts stroking it in a rhythm he knows drives Link crazy. Link strains to spread his legs and lets out a little choked noise when he still can’t, collapsing back down like his strings have been cut.

Rhett’s working another finger inside and getting ready to prompt Link to keep talking when Link hiccups back to life.

“I - I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” he confesses. “It’d felt - it was so much, it’s so much, b-but I - I wanted to do it again.”

“How long did you hold out?”

Link swallows, eyes scrunching shut, and Rhett knows suddenly that Link’s telling the truth.

“Less than a week.”

Rhett bites Link’s asscheek because it’s what’s closest to him, relishes the way it makes Link gasp and tighten around his fingers.

“You came, that time,” Rhett guesses, able to imagine it. “Shit, two fingers inside you just like this, your other hand around your cock - ”

“I used a brush,” Link says, voice nearly a whimper. “The handle, I - ”

_“Fuck,_ Link.”

Rhett removes his fingers too quickly, but Link only moans like a freaking pornstar. This time, when he struggles to move, Rhett takes pity on him and pulls the shorts down far enough that Link can get his legs open.

“Are you - ” Link starts, pushing himself up feebly onto his elbows. He looks over his shoulder and Rhett takes a moment to drink him in, stupid hair and all, before Rhett slides his zipper down and frees his aching cock. Link licks his lips when he sees it, then sinks back into place with a mumbled curse.

“I’m bigger than a brush handle,” Rhett says, low, just to see Link’s shoulders shake with a muffled laugh.

“A lot more annoying, though,” Rhett just barely hears Link say, the first time he’s dropped character in all of this, and Rhett has to bend to press a kiss to Link’s cheek in answer.

“You ready, baby?” he asks. Link eyes flutter open, the perfect picture of nerves and excitement.

“I - yeah,” he says, though it’s uncertain. Rhett might hesitate another time, but he knows Link’s body, even if Link’s pretending not to. In deference to the role Link’s playing, Rhett takes it slow. Inches pass by agonizingly until finally, _finally,_ Rhett’s fully seated. Link’s squirming on his cock, twisting and falling still like he can’t believe the sensation, the truth of what they’re doing. Rhett drops his hands to hold Link’s hip steady and grinds just to pull a gasp out of him.

“Oh my gosh,” Link manages, voice high and thin; it breaks into something not dissimilar to a sob when Rhett pulls out far enough to thrust shallowly.

“Alright?” he asks, raking his eyes over Link’s shuddering form greedily. He gets a silent nod, and it’s enough.

Carefully, tenderly, Rhett starts to fuck Link.

It’s hard to keep the pace slow with the noises Link’s making, the desperation writ clearly across his face, but - but if this is a teenaged Link, Rhett’s determined to give him something special. It’s stupid, it’s fucked up that Rhett’s actually getting off on the idea of Link at eighteen letting some tall stranger from out of town fuck him, but the fantasy’s taken root in Rhett’s head and is guiding his motions to be slow and steady.

Fuck, did Link ever consider it? Was that where this entire scene came from? Did he fuck himself with his hairbrush and then wonder what it’d be like to let some guy bend him over? Did it - shit, did it haunt him every time he jerked off, every time he looked at another guy his age? Did he ever look at _Rhett _and want - 

One of Link’s hands flies back and fumbles for a moment until Rhett gets the memo and interlaces their fingers, pins Link back to the bed. He gets a strangled moan in response and doubles down, lays his full weight over Link’s back to crush him into the mattress. It changes the angle of his thrusts, traps Link’s dick between his stomach and the sheets, and earns Rhett a full-body shudder.

_“Rhett," _Link gasps, saying his name for the first time since they moved to the bedroom, and Rhett curses and shoves his free hand under Link’s body. When he finds it, Link’s cock is already dripping; Rhett can’t find it within him to spare a thought for the sheets as he jerks Link the way he’s known Link liked it since walking in on him a time too many in college.

"Oh, oh gosh,” Link breathes, thighs jumping. “I’m - I’m going to - ”

“Come on, Link,” Rhett murmurs against his neck, and a few seconds later has to move or be brained as Link’s head flies back as he comes. His body locks down around Rhett’s cock, making it almost impossible to press back in; Rhett doesn’t think before he’s pulling out with an obscene sound and finishing himself off roughly.

It’s only as the orgasm is rippling through Rhett that he realizes what he’s doing, and by then it’s too late to do anything but enjoy the sight of those stupid short shorts being streaked with Rhett’s come, _claimed._

Rhett lets himself slide off of Link’s back and collapse next to him in bed, breathing quickly.

After a moment Link starts to laugh.

“You freaking perv,” he giggles, still face-first in the mattress. Rhett smacks him halfheartedly.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he pants, though it’s undercut slightly when Link struggles to his side and sees the way Rhett’s still wringing out the last of his orgasm. His eyes are sparkling with almost vicious amusement; Rhett lets go of his cock almost guiltily.

“I’m not the one who shoved a brush handle up his ass,” he defends; Link rolls his eyes.

“Sorry to burst your bubble - ”

“Oh, no, tell me it wasn’t a lie - ”

“That bit was.” Link stretches without sitting up, smiling. “The prostate exam thing, though - ”

Rhett groans as his dick twitches sorely; Link giggles again.

“I need a nap,” Rhett complains, closing his eyes. He’s not disappointed when Link rolls half on top of him and kisses Rhett soundly.

“Not on these nasty sheets, you don’t,” Link tells him. Rhett opens his eyes to see Link’s smile, takes in the crow’s feet and smile lines so at odds with that _fucking _hair. Link sees where Rhett’s looking and raises a hand to fuss with it.

“Actually, you go ahead and nap,” he decides. “I’m gonna wash this shit out and then I thought - ” He licks his lips, suddenly bashful, and Rhett raises his eyebrows.

“I just fucked you while you pretended to be a teenager, Link,” he points out dryly. “Is it really more embarrassing than that?”

“I thought we could go to the movies,” Link finishes, biting his lip. “You know - like a date.”

“A date,” Rhett echoes, chest aching. Link frowns like he thinks Rhett’s making fun of him, so he cranes up to kiss his stupid, stupid partner.

“I’d like that,” he says simply, honestly. 

Link smiles again, and Rhett closes his eyes as a wave of contentment washes over him.

He wouldn’t change the past for anything.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at egocentrifuge dot tumblr dot com for all the drabbles i'm too lazy to transfer over, plus my unfinished fics!


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